Split Second - Catherine Coulter [60]
The jerk.
She stuck her hand through Thomas’s arm and squeezed. He was a skinny dude, didn’t have much muscle. “I’ve got a condo on Pine Street, only three blocks over.”
A woman came dashing out of Enrico’s, her long blond hair blowing wildly around her head, waving her hands at them. “Wait up!”
The blonde grabbed Genny’s arm and tried to jerk her away from Thomas. “Are you all right?”
“Me? All right? Of course I’m all right; I’m with Thomas. What do you want?”
“You won’t be all right very soon now. I saw this creep slip something in your drink when you went to the restroom. I’ll bet it’s that rape drug, Rohypnol.”
“What’s Rohypnol?”
“You know, roofies, that date-rape drug. You’ve heard of roofies, haven’t you?” The woman didn’t take her eyes off Thomas.
“He gave me a roofie?”
“Yep, slipped it right into your mojito. I’ll bet you’re feeling pretty woozy about now, right?”
More betrayal. She couldn’t take it. Genny erupted, whirled on Thomas, shoved him hard in the chest with the heels of her palms. He wheeled his arms to keep his balance. “You jerk!”
“Wait a minute!”
She slammed her foot in his stomach, and he fell onto his side and rolled off the curb to land on his back, trying to suck in air.
Genny stared down at her supposed friend and wanted to cry. She’d believed him—so cute, a really nice guy, and his singing voice was incredible. He’d listened, actually listened. “I’m sorry you did that, Thomas.”
“I didn’t!” he yelled at the blonde. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”
“I’m Monica, you lowlife, and I saw you do it! You’re Genny, right? When I saw you come outside with him, I couldn’t stand by, knowing he was going to do something bad to you.”
Thomas was holding his stomach. “Genny, I swear I didn’t put anything in your drink. I didn’t. Why would I?”
Monica dove her hand into a huge black purse and pulled out her cell phone. “You lying pig. I’m going to get the cops here to take your sorry butt to jail.”
Genny grabbed Monica’s hand but missed because she was so drunk. Or was it the roofie? “No, don’t call the cops, I only want to get out of here.”
She looked at Thomas, on his knees now. “You did drug me,” she said to him. “I feel really dizzy and sick, so you must have.” She felt a bolt of rage and tried to kick him as he was getting to his feet, but she missed.
“Forget about him, Genny. Let’s get out of here. If you’re not better by the time we get to your place, I’ll call the cops. Believe me, everyone got a good look at him, and he’ll go to jail for it.” She whirled around to Thomas, now leaning against a light post. “Don’t you try to follow us, you got me, you creep?”
“Let’s just go,” Genny said as bile rose up into her throat. Oh, no, please, she didn’t want to get sick.
There wasn’t a taxi in sight. “Well, we’re not far from your place, right, Genny?”
Genny couldn’t answer, she was too busy simply keeping herself upright, putting one foot in front of the other.
It took a long time to get to her building on Pine Street, since every single step was a trial and error, but finally, with Monica supporting her, she managed to get her key into the outside lock.
It was past midnight. No one was around at that hour, certainly not the doorman, Sidney, who liked to snooze the night away in the storage room behind the counter.
Monica helped her onto the elevator. Genny studied the board, finally punched the button for the fourth floor. When the elevator doors opened, Genny was wheezing, barely able to walk. “I’m not going to make it.”
“Sure you will. Hang in there, Genny, you’re doing fine. Don’t worry, I’m here.”
Monica took the key out of Genny’s hand when they reached her door at the end of the corridor, opened the door, and eased her inside.
“Yes, Genny, you made it. I’m proud of you. Now let’s get you inside, and